


Sweet Relief

by iezzern



Series: Nikandros getting railed by older men [3]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29800371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iezzern/pseuds/iezzern
Summary: Nikandros didn’t mean to.He really didn’t.(or, Nikandros gets railed by yet another old man)
Relationships: Nikandros (Captive Prince)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Nikandros getting railed by older men [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078784
Kudos: 20





	Sweet Relief

**Author's Note:**

> This happened, idk how. I just can't stop imagining Nikandros with big, strong men who like to hold him down and spoil him.... This one took a lot of work to get finished, I'm currently in a writing slump, so enjoy!

Nikandros didn’t mean to.

He _really_ didn’t.

It’d been a few months since he’s returned from the Kingsmeet, welcomed by hugs and teasings from his older brothers. It’d been wish-thinking to expect them not to have heard about Makedon’s little conquest. No one brought it up publicly or officially, though, that would be taboo.

Nikandros had spent his days training, wasting hours with Damen, and dreaming of Makedon. Their night together had branded itself in Nikandros’ head and thoughts. He could never forget it. Even when he was having his female slaves.

It’s sort of embarrassing to admit to himself. He doesn’t really want to, at first—satisfied with thinking of it as a happy little accident. It doesn’t take long before he surely knows, though, that he needs more of it.

It’s not something he can easily get, either. Male slaves are all trained to be submissive, and Nikandros very much doesn’t want someone who bends for him. It makes itself notable, how Nikandros first turns away his female slaves, and then his male slaves.

Father asks a thinly veiled question about it, which Nikandros responds to with reddened cheeks and a stuttered denial. Nikandros avoids him for three days after that, and Father ends up sending Nikandros’ brothers to clean up his mess. Nikandros’ brothers end up teasing him relentlessly.

They still have that soft affection for him, though, that older brothers often have. So the older one of them mutters to Nikandros that he’s sure one of his commanders would enjoy his company, and he could set it up if Nikandros would like. Nikandros hadn’t had the bravery to answer out loud, so he’d just nodded with a raging blush on his cheeks.

His brother’s commander is also one of his brother’s friends, so there’s no challenge getting him to spend the evening with the family. Nikandros finds himself drowned by awkwardness, though, as he doesn’t know how to handle the fact that the commander is here solely to bed Nikandros—and that his entire family is completely aware of that fact.

The commander—Lander—doesn’t seem insulted by it, smiles happily throughout the entire dinner and doesn’t even show a suggestion of knowledge of his position here. He knows, though, Nikandros is sure, because he keeps throwing Nikandros looks that send heat running through his body. Lander his strong, muscled, with a short cut of blonde hair, and a thick beard. Nikandros is weak at the knees.

Lander sits down close to Nikandros when they finally get out into the gardens. He lays his hand along the back of the bench they’re sitting on, brushing his fingers down over Nikandros’ shoulder. Nikandros’ breath catches at the back of his throat.

Lander exudes confidence and smugness, naturally domineering. He steers Nikandros a little closer to himself with only a slight pressure from his hold, forcing him to lean into his side. Heat is already simmering low in Nikandros’ belly.

He sits like that, eyes downturned and face rose-red, through their entire time in the gardens. Lander is such a sure presence beside him, confident and casual in it. He almost ignores Nikandros throughout the entire thing, but gives him small crumbs of attention every now and then—that keeps Nikandros on the edge of his seat.

Mother and Father excuse themselves quickly, too tired from politics earlier in the day. It leaves Nikandros, his brothers and Lander sat in the garden, an awkward air surrounding them. Nikandros’ brothers obviously know what’s going to happen after they leave, and are more than ready to do so.

Lander starts brushing his thumb up and down Nikandros’ shoulder, leaning in to smirk against the column of his throat. Nikandros’ breath hitches and his brothers choose that moment to make an unsubtle exit.

As soon as they disappear inside, Lander runs his hand up Nikandros’ thigh. It’s so sudden, Nikandros nearly flinches—but it reminds him so of another incident that he falls immediately pliant. Nikandros bares his neck, lets Lander dive in there to nip at it. He lets himself be wrapped in Lander’s warmth, splays himself there.

Lander hums appreciatively, leaning over Nikandros. He’s so wide; so much bigger than Nikandros. Nikandros realizes with a start, and some shame, that he may have a type. If his brothers knew about his first escapade, they might’ve teased him about his taste for older men. But they don’t know. Can never know.

Lander keeps his hand, soft and warm, on Nikandros’ thigh; squeezes it tight. Nikandros parts his legs, gives Lander more to work with; more to grab at and feel for. He has to bite his lip to keep sounds from spilling out.

Lander is kind in his movements, rightly assuming Nikandros doesn’t have much experience. Nikandros’ chiton is shoved up to his hips and his head is tilted back, giving Lander full access to anything he might want. Nikandros should be ashamed of letting him have all this so quickly, but all he can feel is mulled pleasure.

Lander drags Nikandros up in his lap, splaying Nikandros legs on either side of his own. “That’s a good boy,” he mutters while his fingers find Nikandros’ abdomen under his chiton. Nikandros jumps a little at the feeling of his cold fingers there, but Lander’s tight grip doesn’t leave room for much else.

Lander lets his fingers tease up and down Nikandros’ chest, tugging lightly at his nipples and splaying wide over his muscles. Nikandros feels that too-familiar flush rise in his cheeks. Lander dislodges one hand to raise it and unpin Nikandros’ chiton. The fabric falls smoothly off Nikandros’ shoulders, pooling where it’s tied at the waist, and cold air rushes to meet his overheated skin.

Nikandros whines between clenched teeth, low in his throat. Lander snorts in amusement against his ear. “Quite the sensitive one, aren’t you?” he says, while letting his fingers dance down below Nikandros’ waist and brush over his hardened cock. Nikandros’ hips jerk up, chasing the contact but Lander withdraws his fingers immediately. “Sweet.”

Nikandros thinks this has gone too far to stay in the gardens. Even if the illicit feeling is strong and oh, so good in his body, propriety is still ingrained deeply in his brain. A servant could happen upon them, even if it is highly unlikely, and Nikandros would rather be had in a bed than on a cold stone bench.

“Should we retire to my chambers?” he shakily questions, hiding his face in Lander’s neck, breathing against his collarbone. Lander hums, a deep sound that sends vibrations through Nikandros’ body. Nikandros shivers.

Lander grabs onto Nikandros’ waist and, after a small moment of confusion, Nikandros gets the message. He struggles his way around, Lander’s hands brushing across his bare skin the entire time and his body lights up with it. When Nikandros is securely placed with a knee on either side of Lander’s thighs—face-to-face with him. Lander’s hold on his waist tightens.

“I don’t think we should, my sweet,” he says, and Nikandros’ world shatters around him. It’s not inherently bad, he reasons, but to do it in the gardens. And still, he’d do whatever to get this.

“Please,” he breathes out softly, “Be gentle with me. I can’t handle much of—”

Lander’s sure hands falter for a moment, and then he’s chuckling against Nikandros’ cheek. “Of course, my sweet,” he drawls, voice dropped deep, “I’ll give you what you need.”

Nikandros squirms, hips hitching against Lander’s hard, strong body. The Commander is making himself a sure presence between Nikandros’ thighs and his teeth are nipping at Nikandros’ throat and _oh_ —Nikandros has never made a sound like that before. Lander seems to like it.

This is new; he’s not beneath his Commander or his King—Lander is at least below thirty; can still relate to Nikandros in a certain flush of youth. Makedon and his King had been so far above him in position it’d been easy to fall into a role of submissiveness and obedience. With Lander, it’s easier to pretend they could’ve just been casual friends who decided to take care of each other’s needs. It didn’t bring the inherent embarrassment of his first times.

Lander nips at the juncture between Nikandros’ collarbone and neck and then licks his way up to Nikandros’ mouth, biting at that, too. Nikandros whines and can’t really do much but run his hands down Lander’s back. One of Lander’s hands finds its way to Nikandros’ behind, slipping down the cleft and rubbing over his hole. Nikandros’ body jerks with it, and Lander ignores it yet again.

His only way of acknowledging it is by muttering “Needy” and smirking over Nikandros’ mouth. Nikandros wants to answer, but has lost all ability to. His skin is overheated; burning hot where Lander is touching him, and his brain is scrambling to catch up. Lander pulls away for a short moment, letting cold air rush into Nikandros’ overheated body.

“It’s no wonder the Commander couldn’t keep his hands off you,” he murmurs, reaching out to tweak at his nipple. Nikandros’ breath hitches in the back of his throat and, by instinct, his thighs widen, bringing him further down on Lander’s lap and pressing against his growing hardness. Lander makes a strangled sound, and one of his hands disappears from Nikandros’ body.

There’s the sound of a bottle being unstopped and Nikandros blushes fiercely at the thought that someone had placed this here in preparation. Nikandros hates that illicit feeling more than anything.

Lander’s hand returns quickly, slick and slippery now, and immediately he’s playing with Nikandros’ hips again, angling them how he wants and teasing at his sensitive parts. He’d figured them out easily, quickly. Nikandros is easy to read in bed. The King had told him as much the fifth time he’d bent Nikandros over and shoved his cock inside.

Then a well-oiled finger slips down and teases lightly at his opening. Nikandros lets out a long breath and runs a hand through his hair. No matter how many times he’s done this to himself, and let others do the same, it always feels new and foreign. Like he’s something new and tender that needs to be broken in.

Lander’s eyes don’t leave Nikandros’ face, a nearly invisible blush is covering his cheeks. “Lovely,” he says as he teases his finger inside. Nikandros whines and fists Lander’s chiton in his hands, letting all embarrassing sounds slip from his mouth.

He’s loose enough from this morning that it doesn’t take long for Lander to press another finger in. Lander’s other hand stays at Nikandros’ hip, canting it up to give him better access. It’s demeaning, in a way, but Nikandros can’t help the heat in his stomach flaring with want at it.

He shifts his thigh on the cold, hard marble and grinds his hips up, meeting against Lander’s thrusts. It’s a hard pace to keep, and his thighs start aching almost immediately, but it feels so damned good—Lander’s fingers rubbing against his insides and loosening him up. Readying him.

Lander slips another finger in and this time it stings a little, but Nikandros doesn’t pay it any mind. He’s learned by now to let his body take its time in accepting pleasure. It comes slowly—a dull pleasure building up, pressuring between his legs. He starts letting out small “ah-ah”s in time with Lander’s fingers, hips twisting with the building momentum inside him.

His entire body is drawn tight—taunt with tension. Just one small twist of Lander’s fingers, one movement, and he’ll break. Lander doesn’t, though, seemingly aware of Nikandros’ neediness. Instead, he withdraws slightly, leaving only shallow thrusts of his fingers. Nikandros whines.

Lander chuckles. “Patience, my sweet,” he says.

Nikandros is about to tell Lander exactly where he can stuff his patience and then Lander leans down and kisses over his nipple. Nikandros’ breath catches in the back of his throat. Nikandros tries to rifle through his mind; find the right words. Men like Lander always let pride go to their heads and so…

“Sir,” he mewls out, feels Lander freeze against him, “Please, sir, fuck me. I need you to fuck me hard, sir, I need to feel a big, hard cock—”

Lander yanks Nikandros’ body off the bed and flips him around. Nikandros is on his feet in a flurry of confusion and then Lander takes him over his knee, bends him face-down with his chiton flipped up to expose his rear—Like an unruly youth being disciplined. Nikandros feels his blush spread down to his chest.

“That’s no way to speak to your Commander, is it, boy?” Lander drawls, voice gravelly, and proceeds to lay a slap against the left of Nikandros’ ass. It stings, small pinpricks of relief spreading from where Lander made contact. The sound echoes through the dark and Nikandros knows there are guards posted somewhere in these gardens, and he can’t get out a word over the low whine building in his throat.

“I think your insubordination requires some light punishment, don’t you?” Lander comments with another spank on the other cheek, probably leaving Nikandros’ skin blooming red. Nikandros can’t gather himself enough to answer, just grips onto Lander’s calf and tries not to shake with the feeling of his cock against Lander’s thigh.

Another spank, over both the previous ones, and this time a half-shout-half-whimper forces its way up Nikandros’ throat. “I think ten will do,” Lander says, as if he’s talking to someone else entirely. It’s demeaning; insulting, even, and Nikandros doesn’t care _one bit._

Another spank rains down over his buttocks, leaving searing hot pain in its wake and Nikandros chokes yet again, blood rushing to his head. There’s a cascade through his nerves, lighting him up, making him so aware of _everything._ Another spank lands.

And another. And another. Sound carrying through the air.

Nikandros whines out a plea, tears in the corners of his eyes. “Sorry, sir, _please_ ,” his words are hitched and hiccupping, desperate, “Take me; fuck me. Make me yours. Just, _please_ , I need you inside me—”

Nikandros knows he’s way past the point of embarrassing begging now, and he’ll probably never be able to look Lander in the eyes again, but it feels far too overwhelming now. He needs his cock inside him, hard and thick, before he comes all messily over his thigh.

Lander shushes him with a fond tone, and rubs his skin soothingly. Apparently deciding the punishment is over, he helps Nikandros sit up straight, wipes his tears. “What a good boy you were,” he says, running his hands down Nikandros’ back to squeeze at his ass. Nikandros’ hips jerk forward, his skin so raw and tender, and Lander chuckles again.

“If I knew there was such a sweet flower hidden here, I would’ve visited more often,” he says with a smirk, licking away a tear from Nikandros’ cheek. Nikandros shudders; doesn’t have any thoughts left to answer. Instead, he just leans in and kisses Lander’s cheek. Lander snorts, but lets Nikandros nuzzle in.

He delivers two small pats to either cheeks of Nikandros’ ass, encouraging him to raise his hips high. Nikandros realizes his intentions and his blush grows even hotter, if that is possible. He obeys, of course.

Lander reaches down to tug at his own cock and coat it in oil, and Nikandros can feel his knuckles bump against his underside. And then there’s the brush of Lander’s cock against his entrance and Nikandros makes a truly _humiliating_ sound. He hides his face in Lander’s neck.

Lander breathes out evenly and slowly guides Nikandros’ hips down over his cock. Nikandros bites his lip, leans his forehead against Lander’s shoulder and breathes out. Lander isn’t the biggest he’s taken but his size isn’t something to take lightly, either, and he lets Nikandros sink down slowly. It’s always a bit of a challenge, taking it in the first time, but Nikandros knows how to roll his hips to make it less overwhelming.

With most of his focus being on the even breaths he’s trying, and failing, to make, Nikandros doesn’t realize he’s halfway down before Lander stops his movements with a tight grip. Nikandros raises his head to find the man grinning down at him. His thumbs run over Nikandros’ hipbones. “Don’t wanna rush you, my sweet,” he murmurs, silently, “I’ll have time to wreck you later.”

Nikandros lets an embarrassed smile draw over his face, eyes flickering down. He was like this with his other two men, too—seated in their laps to pleasure them however they wanted him to—but with both of them he’d barely been coherent enough to remember it properly. At least he had experience with being fucked without rest for hours on end.

Lander lets him start sinking down again, opening Nikandros up wide and bringing that supple, tender feeling Nikandros loves inside him. Like being caught on the edge and never getting a proper release. Completely in the embrace and control of another. 

He lets his mind slip away, sink down into that feeling of being taken and had. Lander is going to take care of him, give him what he needs, and Nikandros is going to do nothing but let him take what he wants and do whatever he wants. The lack of control isn’t something he should want, really, with his status. It’s just too good to deny himself.

Lander starts whispering sweet nothings into Nikandros’ ear, while guiding his hips in small rocking motions, letting Nikandros take more and more of his cock. Nikandros bites down a choking sound, steadying his knees on the bench. And then Lander lets go of his thighs, and his entire length is pressed inside. A shout forces itself out of Nikandros’ mouth and morphs into a semblance of a whimper.

Lander just laughs, amused. “Cute,” he murmurs.

He’s probably had men like this before—many times, it’s natural for him to say things like these. And yet Nikandros can’t help but feel flattered and needy for more. He wants to be good. Wants to be _so good_. Any and all praise from Lander sends shivers up his spine and renders his thoughts and mind useless.

Lander tightens his grip on Nikandros’ hips and then starts them in small jerkish movements, rocking on his cock. Jolts of pleasure spark up from his hips with each one, building a momentum Nikandros knows he won’t be able to fight down when it finally tips over. He tries to help, move his hips along with Lander’s movements, but his body is frozen, the tension in his hips enough to lock up every muscle.

Lander tugs at Nikandros’ thighs, pressing the two of them as close as possible, their chests rubbing together. It cants Nikandros’ hips in just the right angle to let Lander’s cock brush up against that spot. Nikandros doesn’t have any energy left to make a sound, so he settles for biting into Lander’s shoulder with viciousness.

The feeling just builds and builds, bringing him to a point of pleasure he knows he can reach only because he’s been at it before. But it still feels unreal; too much. Like a feeling he shouldn’t really be able to feel at all.

“You gonna work for release, my sweet?” Lander teases, “Or are you just content letting me do everything?”

Nikandros goes to answer but he can’t bring himself to, hitching gasps spilling out instead. He tries to help, though, rolling his hips against Lander’s slow, drawing thrusts. It doesn’t do much, but enough if the sound Lander makes is enough to go by.

Lander’s fingers dig into his thighs, leaving red marks that Nikandros hopes will turn into bruises. Lander spreads his own thighs wide, and Nikandros feels how it makes the Commander sink deeper into him, giving him more of his big, thick cock. It also makes ice cold air rush against Nikandros’ most sensitive spot right now, and Nikandros yelps a bit in surprise.

Lander hums appreciatively, and lets Nikandros cling close. His entire body’s quivering, from sensitivity, embarrassment and cold, all together. Not even when the King had his hands on him in the gardens did he feel this sensitive; desperate. Nikandros releases hot breaths against the column of Lander’s neck—tiny, almost hurt-like noises spilling out with them. Lander’s hands slip from Nikandros’ hips to his waist, and grab on tightly.

Nikandros doesn’t even get time to wonder, before Lander lifts him up, cock dragging against his insides, and then drops him down hard and rough again, without care or caution. For a short moment, Nikandros’ voice raises high in pitch, jerking along with the way Lander is bouncing Nikandros on his cock.

It’s quick, rough, and messy—so very unlike what Nikandros is used to. He grips tightly onto Lander’s shoulder, spreading his thighs just right so Lander gets an easier job. The constant drag of him inside him is intoxicating, sparks of near-painful pleasure throbbing in an uneven rhythm. Lander’s hips start working quicker; rough and messy.

Nikandros hides his face in Lander’s shoulder again, whining in the back of his throat. Lander groans. “There’s a good boy,” he says, “All sweet and desperate for me.”

Nikandros’ eyes flutter shut, the praise flowing over him in a wave of pride, so happy he’s been good for his commander. “Sir,” he mewls, all quiet and shy, “Sir, could you _ah—”_ Lander’s hips move in a particularly rough thrust, “ _Ah, yes, right there_ , _mhn_ …Could you finish inside me, please? I want it. I want it so bad—”

“There’s no need to beg, my sweet,” Lander laughs against his ear, nosing at his mess of black curls, “Was already planning on giving it to you.”

Nikandros whines. “Thank you, sir, thank you so much—”

The sound of the slap against his ass reaches his ears before he truly feels it. His hips stutter, mouth falling completely silent. Lander’s thrusts lose all sense of rhythm now, the commander just chasing pleasure and release.

Then Lander’s hips start stuttering and Nikandros feels warmth spilling inside him. His muscles lock up and a shaky moan escapes his lips. Lander groans, long and drawn-out, fingers digging into Nikandros’ hips and hips slowly rolling. Within seconds, Nikandros is shaking his way through an orgasm, spilling against Lander’s abdomen.

It crushes down on him unexpectedly, overflowing through his body and leaving him shuddering and gasping. There’re tears in his eyes. Lander tightens his hold and coos against his cheek, amused by it all. “Never come like this, boy?”

Nikandros has, but Lander doesn’t need to know that.

Lander rests a hand on the inside of Nikandros’ thigh and proceeds to lift him up, letting his cock slip out. Nikandros shivers at the feeling of it.

He expects Lander to let him rest a little, before cleaning them up. Nikandros has endured enough humiliating thoughts for tonight. But Lander, suddenly, stands up, ignoring Nikandros’ stuttered protest, wrapping Nikandros’ thighs around his own waist and carrying him towards the villa. Nikandros wraps his arms over Lander’s shoulders with an embarrassing sound. Lander’s breath is hot against his ear.

“There’s a staircase on the left, outside,” Nikandros stutters out, desperate not to get seen by anyone even if the entire household must know by now, “It goes right up to my chambers.”

He’s never been more thankful for that godsdamned staircase.

Lander follows his direction, fingers teasing just below the brush of Nikandros’ chiton where it’d gotten very, very short. Nikandros’ breath is turning laboured again, his body not quite finished. He flushes in embarrassment.

The walk up the stairs and to the room is made quick, rushed. Lander’s grip keeps tightening, fingers digging in and squeezing at supple muscles. Nikandros lets himself sink into the feeling, enjoy the flutter of Lander’s skin against his.

And then the hard wood of Nikandros’ bedroom door is pressed against his back. Lander’s mouth is moving over his lips, cheeks, jawline—anywhere available. It’s messy and rough, no real reason to it, but Nikandros doesn’t care. His body is riding a high he didn’t think possible without _chalis_.

Nikandros fumbles behind himself to find the handle, eager to get inside and be spread on his bed. Lander doesn’t protest it, luckily, and restores his grip under Nikandros’ thighs to carry him into the room.

He doesn’t even hesitate on his way to the bed, lowering Nikandros down on it with unexpected softness and care. He makes Nikandros fall back, a hand pressed to his chest. He stays there watching for a time, eyes fleeting over Nikandros’ form. “I made quite the mess of you, didn’t I?” he breathes, before lowering his mouth down over Nikandros’ reddened thighs.

Nikandros is about to protest, but Lander’s mouth moves further and further up his thigh and then there’s a teasing movement against his behind—then a playful bite. Nikandros squeals in surprise and then huffs, annoyed. Lander just chuckles; the way overconfident men often do when they’ve got a near-virgin underneath them. Lander raises his hand, slips two fingers into Nikandros’ tender hole. Overstimulation ravages Nikandros’ body, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Then Lander leans in again and licks a stripe up where he’s got his fingers buried. Nikandros lets a high-pitched whine escape, hips lifting off the sheets. By the Gods. He grabs onto his sheets, exhaustion preventing him from doing anything more.

Lander buries his face between Nikandros’ thighs, lapping at his entrance with vigour. One of the hands Nikandros had fisted in the sheets goes to the back of Lander’s head, holds tightly onto his hair.

Lander pulls his fingers out completely, and replaces them with his tongue. He licks inside Nikandros and the younger man’s body starts quivering, small jerks running through his bones. Neither the King nor general Makedon had done this to him, and the new experience is wiping his mind of anything other than the feeling of Lander’s mouth against his sloppy entrance.

Nikandros choked on a breath, his entire body squirming except for his hips, which are held still by Lander’s strong hands. Lander’s licks are long; measured, and leave Nikandros’ insides clenching around nothing. It’s so close to the edge of wonderful and at the same time not. It’s so little, but with the sensitivity still in Nikandros’ veins, it’s more than enough to bring his body to the edge.

Lander hums, sends vibrations through Nikandros’ body, and doesn’t move. Just keeps licking in, making quite a mess of Nikandros and his ass. Nikandros’ feet slip on the sheets and he ends up having to lay them over Lander’s shoulders, giving him another upper hand. Nikandros is splayed over him now, Lander’s to manoeuvre however he wants.

Nikandros’ eyes flicker shut and his mouth opens in a wordless shout. He steadies himself by gripping the covers by his head, but nothing can drown out the feeling of Lander’s tongue fucking into him without pause.

And then he comes again, open-mouthed and blushing. Lander seems impossibly pleased, coming up to tower over Nikandros again while stroking affectionately at his thighs. “Good boy,” he murmurs, eyes moving reverently. Nikandros can’t help but feel a smidge of satisfaction.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you could leave kudos, or better: comments, I'd really appreciate it!


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